TYSON
Goddess, what the actual f**k? How could I still want to f**k her so badly after everything that had gone down? She was so infuriating. How did she affect me so much? Why couldn't I stop seething about everything, and, at the same time, wanting to accept her apology—the one she delivered so sweetly and vulnerably? That moment—she just seemed so pure, and like she was more than just some b***h hell-bent on terrorizing me with her insults.
I was in the kitchen picking at leftovers when Blake walked in. "Sup," I greeted him.
"Look, man, I don't care if you hook up with random girls. That's your business. But I draw the line at taking advantage of my pack members. Especially if they're passed out and can't consent."
"And what, you think I'm doing that?" I replied, trying to keep my v
